A/N: The word whip lash has been thrown around a lot by my pre-readers this chapter. That's all I have to say about that.

Despite the fact they had a gorgeous room waiting for them, Edward and Bella stayed in San Francisco overnight.

Knowing how much she loved science museums, Edward drove to the Exploratorium. When Bella's eyes lit up as she realized what it was, he smiled.

She was supposed to be a scientist by now. What had happened to that dream, he wondered.

He almost asked her.

Instead, he watched her bounce from exhibit to exhibit. She'd always loved how hands on science museums were.

They came across a little girl struggling to raise one half of a metal bar out of soapy water.

"Can I help?" Bella asked as they stepped over.

The little girl nodded. "I'm vewy little. I want to make a big wall!"

"We can do it together." Bella stood by the little girl, nodding at Edward that he should take the other side. He did so. "Now we have to be careful. Slow. Slow. Yeah. Like that."

Rather than watch the bubble wall, Edward watched Bella's face. She and the tiny girl wore matching expressions of wide-eyed fascination. The wall undulated, rainbow colors catching in the light of the building, and they grinned like loons.

Edward felt a warmth blossom at the center of his chest. He blew gently on the wall just to get a reaction out of them. They both protested and then encouraged him as the wall bulged out.

"Awww!" they chorused when the bubble inevitably popped.

They made their way back to Carmel slowly, stopping at little stretches of beach. The coast was gorgeous in this area - sometimes rocky cliffs and other times pristine sand. On one outlet, seals laid on the beach, touchable though Edward and Bella were smarter than that.

The atmosphere between them was confusing to say the least.

Edward woke up in their room in Carmel on the third day of their impromptu honeymoon and again found Bella up before him. She was dressed in a cover up, suggesting she had a bathing suit on underneath.

"It's a little chilly for swimming, isn't it?"

Bella's eyes lingered on his for a moment, as if she was waiting for the punch line or looking for his judgment. "Compared to First Beach, this is a sauna." She offered him a small smile. "I might not go in, but I don't think I've been in the ocean since I was twelve and went to visit my mother." She paused. "Do you want to come with me?"

Her voice was uncertain, like she wasn't at all sure she should be offering.

It was somewhat comforting to know he wasn't the only one struggling with how to navigate this tentative friendship between them. "Not right now."

She nodded and was out the door in the next second, heading for the beach.

Edward tapped his fingers on his legs, glad of the respite. It was good to have a little space from her. Maybe he could think about something else.

Of course, he ended up staring out the window, watching her as she watched the waves.

Minutes ticked by, and Edward didn't move. He kept telling himself he should. He should distract himself. Or if he was going to keep staring at her, maybe he should take her up on her offer. A swim would be distracting. He couldn't remember the last time he'd been in the ocean either.

He remembered the couples they'd passed when they walked along the beach the day before. He remembered their giggles and the way one man had wrapped his arms around the woman's waist, tackling her into the water.

Before he could stop himself, he imagined playing that way with Bella.

His cellphone ringing startled him out of his fantasies, and Edward jumped.

His stomach twisted with instant anxiety. Automatically, his thoughts moved in a darker direction. What if it was his family calling him to tell him...

No. No, he needed more time.

He brought the phone to his ear. "Hello?"

"Edward?"

Edward slumped in relief hearing his mother's voice. "Hi, Mom."

"Hello, honey. Is this a bad time?"

"No. It's fine."

They talked a little about what the happy couple had been up to the last few days. Edward spun her half truths. He played up the fun they'd had. It wasn't as hard as it could have been. He had honestly enjoyed Bella's company, but he played up the romance for Esme's benefit.

"Edward, I love you, but be honest with me."

"What do you-"

"You're still angry."

Edward was quiet for a handful of moments. He swallowed hard. "I'm not angry."

"Yes, you are. You always have been." His mother sighed. "I know if I wasn't sick, you wouldn't have married her."

"Mom-"

"No. You've been my son all your life, Edward," she joked. Then her tone became more serious. "I know you still love her; you've never stopped loving her. But I also know you're holding on to the past with both hands and all your toes."

"I'm-" Edward started to argue, but then he deflated. All things considered, it sounded as though she still wasn't aware his marriage was a complete facade. He could be a son having problems with a relationship. "It's just... I don't understand. We could have had a beautiful life together. It was so needless. All of these things she's never done, we could have done them together. She could have had all of this without all the... angst."

"Oh, sweetheart." Esme sounded almost disappointed. "There is no such thing as life without the angst. She made a mistake. You've made mistakes too. If she hadn't done what she did, it would have been something else. There's never nothing."

"But our life, the life we'd planned-"

"Edward." Esme sounded exasperated. "You are so rigid. You created this perfect life in your head when you were seventeen years old, and you refuse to let it go."

"It was a good life."

"Was it?" She took an unsteady breath. "Think about it, Edward. You've done your best to be the person you promised to be when you were little more than a child. Has it brought you any happiness? You hate the job you and Bella chose together."

"I don't hate it."

"Edward," she warned.

"I don't. I'm good at what I do. I've been successful."

"Success isn't the same as happiness. And yes, I know you, dear. I know you think you could have been happy if Bella hadn't done what she did all those years ago. But you wouldn't have been happy if you didn't learn how to change. You can't be that teenage boy forever."

Edward said nothing. His head spun around her words, but he was also worried about the way she'd begun to slur them. She sounded exhausted.

"You should lie down, Mom."

Esme gave a withering sigh ending in a stuttering breath. "I suppose I should. You have a wife to get back to, after all." Her sigh was wistful. "Swim with her in the ocean, Edward. It's surprisingly romantic. There's a reason why old time filmmakers used the waves crashing on the beach as a metaphor for orgasm."

"Mom!" Edward protested.

Her laugh was weak. "Go on, son." She panted between words. "I'll see you. When you get home."

"I love you, Mom."

"I love you, Edward. Always."

Edward hung up the phone somewhat reluctantly, staring at it for a moment longer. His stomach twisted, and he had an intense need to be back home by his mother's side again. For a second, the need was so powerful he couldn't breathe, and his head spun crazily.

Tomorrow evening. Tomorrow evening they would be back on a plane home.

Edward blew out a slow breath, his head bowed as he tried not to think.

He jumped a moment later when a wayward branch hit the window. Hard.

Narrowing his eyes, Edward got to his feet and peered out the window. "I'll be damned," he murmured under his breath.

In the half hour or so that he'd been talking to his mother, the weather had changed dramatically. Dark clouds had rolled in and the wind picked up. Edward furrowed his brow in concern as he walked into the living room, scanning the beach.

Bella was nowhere to be seen. Her towel was still on the beach, crumpled over on itself as it was tossed around in the wind.

For some reason, discomfort settled like a stone in the pit of his stomach. He stepped forward, quickly moving to the porch. It was chilly outside. Chilly enough that Edward pulled his jacket tighter around him.

Still no sign of Bella.

His nerves twisted.

The water was choppy. Very choppy. The waves were high.

His memories flashed back to just an hour ago when Bella was debating whether or not she wanted to brave the cool temperature to go for a swim.

Edward's steps picked up. His eyes were scanning the shoreline, but all he saw was white capped waves.

A kid ran by, calling backward to his brother. "Hurry up! There's someone in the water."

Edward started running.

Sure enough, there was a small crowd gathered on the beach, looking out toward the water. Some official looking people were keeping the crowd back, away from the dangerous waves. Someone was in danger, and he was suddenly terrified he knew who it was.

"Bella!" he yelled, and he ran faster.

His mind was blank, his every thought wrapped around a single emotion: fear.

Because it would serve him right if it ended this way. Hadn't his mother just told him how precious life was? Hadn't she been trying to get him to see that time could run out in a heartbeat?

Not her. Not her. Not her. "Bella!"

He was about to grab one of the guys who was already holding his hand out in a stopping motion when he heard his name being called.

Edward whirled around. "Bella?"

Bella stepped forward out of the crowd, and he ran to her, sweeping her up in a tight hug. He murmured her name over and over, so profoundly relieved he hardly knew what he was doing. He took her face in his hands, and he kissed her.

Her hair was soaking wet as he tangled his fingers in her hair. Her skin was ice. Her startled cry was muffled against his lips. Edward was only vaguely aware that her body, pressed against his, was just as wet as her hair under the coverall she was wearing. She had been in the water.

Since he'd sprinted down the beach, he was already out of breath. He broke their kiss, holding her tightly in his arms. "You scared the hell out of me."

"S-s-sorry."

She was shivering. Hard. "Oh, Bella." He let her go so he could shrug out of his sweater.

"I'm fine," she said, blinking at him as though she were slightly dazed. At his prompting, she put her arms through the sleeves of his sweater. Her gaze was wide on him, watching as he zipped her up.

"You're freezing." He rubbed her shoulders. "Let's get inside."

"I want to see what happened t-"

"Bella, please," he pleaded. Anxiety was still his primary emotion. He needed her to be okay. Though he saw her whole and fine in front of him, his world still felt too shaky. "Please let me get you inside. And warm. Whatever happens, I'm sure we'll hear about it." Maybe it was callous, but he cared much more about Bella being safe in that moment than he did about the person who was trapped out in the water.

She studied him for a moment before she nodded. "Okay," she said quietly.

At first, he only held her hand as they walked silently but quickly back to their room. But when he saw that she was still shivering, he tucked her under his arm and brought her fingertips to his lips, blowing warmth into them.

By the time they got to the room his panic had ebbed somewhat. The air around them seemed heavy again, though not malevolent. Just strange, somehow.

Edward didn't know how to process what he was feeling.

Bella stepped away from him as they got indoors. "I, um... I'm going to take a shower."

He nodded. "Good. Yes. That's a good idea." He moved to the heater, turning it up a few degrees to chase the chill from the rooms.

As the shower started, Edward sunk down on the bed, his head in his hands, his thoughts spinning wildly.

What he wanted was to say his concern for Bella was the same as he would have felt for anyone, but it wasn't. It just wasn't. When the idea that she'd been swept out into a violent sea had occurred to him, his heart, his soul, had screamed out with a pain he didn't know how to describe.

It was different. It was so different than when she'd broken his heart. For those minutes of panic, it was as though his heart was gone - ripped out of him forcibly. The idea that her existence could be snuffed out was too much, too unbearable.

Because he loved her. He loved her still.

These last few days, he'd been trying to be her friend, but there was something awkward about it. Yes, some of that could be attributed to his lingering anger, but some of it was also what he'd told her when he was drunk off his ass.

He didn't know how to be her friend. He didn't think it was possible.

Sitting on the bed, thinking about how his first reaction to seeing her alive and well had been to kiss her and never let her go, Edward couldn't deny that fact. He was in love with her. Still. Again. He didn't know.

Edward gripped his hair in both his fists, tugging tightly, trying to get a handle on the overwhelming feeling that rose in him then. It was a very different kind of panic, because what was he supposed to do with this?

He was still so angry. Was he supposed to forgive her? He couldn't forget. And how could this end well either way? Was he supposed to pursue her? She couldn't still love him - not after the way he'd treated her. But she'd destroyed him once. His anger was righteous. He-

The door to the bathroom opened, and Bella stood there in dry clothes, her hair up in a towel and the look in her eyes, as ever, uncertain.

Edward stood and walked to her. For a few moments, he let his thoughts fade away and acted on instinct. He cupped her cheek, seeing again that she was just fine and in front of him.

He stepped closer and tugged the towel, watching her wet hair fall down her back. Idly, he ran his fingers through her hair, combing it out.

Her lips were parted, her eyes on his, watching. She looked as tongue-tied as he felt.

Was he going to kiss her again? He wanted to. Right then, he wanted to pretend the last eight years hadn't happened.

But they had.

Dropping his hand, Edward stepped back again, turning away.

"Why didn't you ever go to school?" The question came out as a bark, his voice was that rough.

Bella didn't answer right away. "What?"

He could hardly blame her for her confusion. It was a very random question given the circumstances, but it was the first one that came to mind. All things considered, it was one of the more tame questions wandering around his head.

"It's been eight years since you graduated. How have you not made it back to school in all that time?"

She huffed. "You really want to talk about this?"

"You said you wanted to talk. We're talking." His tone was flat, and he hadn't turned around to face her yet. He stared out the window at the palm trees in the wind.

"I really don't have a great answer for you. Life just happened that way." She took a deep breath. "I decided not to go to school right away. Some people do that, you know. I decided-"

"Please don't lie to me."

Bella was silent. "I'm not-"

"Your father told me you didn't get into Dartmouth." He finally did turn around then and found Bella was perched on the very edge of the bed. She was looking down, her shoulders rising and falling sharply. "Why didn't you ever tell me that, Bella?" He could hear the desperation in his own voice, but he couldn't temper it. "What, were you too embarrassed?"

"Yes!" She surprised him by shouting, her gaze on fire as she looked up. But just as quickly as the fire rose, it receded, and he caught a glimpse of pure pain as she looked away again. "I mean... But that wasn't the point."

"So what was the point?" he demanded, anger returning quickly. "Rather than talk to me, rather than let us figure out where to go together, you decided this was the better way?"

She wrapped her arms around her shoulders. "It wasn't. You want to know why I didn't go to school? Because I felt so sick about what I did, I could barely function at first. I knew it was the wrong thing, but by the time I figured it out, it was too late." She shook her head. "I swear, Edward. I did it for you."

"That's such bullshit!" He had to close his eyes and take a deep breath. He flexed his fingers at his side before he tried to speak again. "You never bothered to find out what I wanted because you thought what? That I'd be ashamed of you?"

"No." But she didn't sound sure as she denied it.

"Why didn't you know me better than that? I never would have been ashamed of you. Who the fuck cares if you didn't meet some school's metric?"

"I just wanted you to have your dreams, to be happy, and I was just going to hold you back—"

"You were my dream, Bella!" he roared loud enough to make her jump. Again he had to take a deep breath. He could only calm himself down enough not to put his fist through the wall. His tone was still hard and too loud. "You didn't want to hold me back? Well, congratulations. You certainly got that wish. You wanted me to be happy? Well, I guess one out of two isn't all bad."

She bit her lip, turning away again to hide the tears that fell from the corners of her eyes. Edward's heart twisted. He still hated to see her cry. He still wanted nothing more than to go to her, take her in his arms and make it better.

But dammit, she had put them here. She had done this.

Edward began to pace.

"So let me get this straight. You 'gave me up' so that I could go off and pursue my dreams while you stayed in Forks and did what?" This was the part that, if anything, made him go absolutely out of his mind. She had every potential to have an amazing life. He'd built an amazing life without her. His mother was right - it wasn't a life he wanted, but it wasn't so... sad. "Play martyr? Because the way I see it, all you've done for the last eight years is absolutely nothing. And I'm supposed to feel grateful?"

At this she got to her feet. "You know nothing about my life. You don't know what I've done these last eight years. How fucking dare you call it nothing? And really, you have no right to judge me."

"Oh, I have no right?"

"No. You don't. Yes, I made a mistake, Edward, but you believed me. You believed all that bullshit I fed you. Why didn't you know me better?" She threw his words from just a few minutes before back in his face.

Edward blinked, a little stunned.

"You didn't fight for me. You just let me go!"

They were both breathing hard, glaring at each other from across the room. "So it was some sort of test?"

"No," she said, scoffing. "Of course it wasn't." She sounded like she was trying to convince herself as much as him. "It wasn't on purpose!" she blurted out. "I didn't do it on purpose. It felt like the right thing, and you never told me it was wrong. You gave up. I was your dream? If we were so perfect together, if that was what you wanted, why did you just let me go?"

Before Edward could even begin to process that, his cell phone rang. He brought it to his ear without thinking. "What?" he growled into the phone.

"Edward?"

It was Alice. She was obviously crying.

"Edward, you need to come home right now."

A/N: So many thanks to Barburella and songster for helping me piece the fragments together.

SO. Um. Hi. How are you doing?